


make me feel alive

by komet



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Boys In Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, a whooooole lotta fluff, additional characters will be featured in a few chapters, happy endings, they’re so gay and in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:46:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komet/pseuds/komet
Summary: A collection of Swangs oneshots.





	1. someone to lean on

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in. an hour because I’m emotional about this ship okay they’re the softest boys

The whole piggy back ride thing was way too domestic and soft for Sweet Pea to _ever_ see himself doing. Fortunately—or unfortunately—for him though, he happened to have the softest, clumsiest boyfriend on the planet. 

 

They’d been walking back from the Wyrm, talking and laughing as they made their way through the streets of the Southside and back to the trailer park. 

 

“No, dude, Batman sucks ‘cause like, he can’t do shit without his tool belt or without running to an ATM every hour. Fuckin’...Bob the Builder has a belt too, so he might as well be Batman, right?” Fangs snorted, looking up at Sweet Pea with a huff as the taller boy scoffed and shook his head. 

 

“You’re an idiot, Fogarty, you know that?” Pea told him as he raised his brows, hands in the pockets as they walked down the sidewalk. His boyfriend didn’t take offense to it, just shrugged. 

 

“Maybe, but I’m _your_  idiot.” He countered, grinning as Sweets groaned sarcastically at the cliche. Fangs would never fail to catch him a little off guard being all soft and shit. 

 

“Unfortunately, you’re right about that.” Pea huffed, throwing an arm around the other boy’s shoulders and yanking him in close against his side. They went on that way for a while, continuing their leisurely pace back home until a certain somebody decided to go and get himself hurt. Fangs was in the middle of a sentence when suddenly he straight up tripped on a slight raise in the pavement, leaving Sweet Pea with very little reaction time to try to catch him. Because of the angle and their physical proximity and Fangs’ apparent inability to keep himself upright, his boyfriend ended up rolling his ankle with a yelp. 

 

“Ow, _shit_!” Fangs hissed, Pea finally getting a solid grip on him to hold him up. He gave his boyfriend a bewildered look before dropping his gaze to his ankle, which Fangs wisely was not putting pressure on. 

 

“What the hell? Are you okay?” Sweet Pea said, halfway amused and halfway concerned as he kept a steady grip on his idiot’s biceps for support. Yeah, Fangs was his idiot, and he was owning up to it. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—I’m good.” Fangs nodded, expression twisted into a grimace as he slowly moved a little bit away from Pea, testing out some pressure on his ankle. Sweet Pea’s brow furrowed as Fangs sucked his teeth and immediately shifted his weight back over to the other side, and he could’ve sworn he heard the shorter boy let out a slight whine. Sweet Pea sighed, shaking his head at what he was about to say even before he said it. 

 

“Alright, Fogarty, hop on.” Sweet Pea grunted as he let go of Fangs to turn around, bending at the waist with an irritated look in his eyes. 

 

“Uh, what?” Fangs questioned behind him, confusion entirely evident in his tone. Sweet Pea could practically see his boyfriend’s head cocked to the side in question, like he had that subconscious little habit of doing. There were very few people he’d admit this out loud to, but he thought it was cute, how Fangs would look like this curious puppy sometimes. 

 

“Get on my back.” Sweet Pea clarified impatiently, and again, he could almost see Fangs’ goofy smile as he chuckled an ‘Okay’.

 

He grunted as he felt a weight on his back, pulling Fangs’ legs up around his waist and trying to stay annoyed about it as his boyfriend’s arms looped around his neck and he hummed happily. Sweet Pea shook his head, shifting Fangs upwards on his back as he started to walk again. “You know, I’ve never once seen someone twist their ankle just walking down the street.” Sweet Pea commented wryly, feeling the soft exhale against his skin as Fangs chuckled. 

 

“Yeah, well, I guess I’ll be the first.” Fangs murmured as he set his head on Sweet Pea’s shoulder. And then the dumbass decided to go and press a kiss to his cheek without warning, and at this point Sweet Pea wasn’t fooling anybody (especially not himself) if he said he didn’t enjoy it, or if he were to deny the burst of warmth in his chest. Holy _shit_ , they were domestic. Or Sweet Pea was just dramatic, considering that they were literally in a gang and both carried knives around with them at all times. 

 

They got back to Fangs’ trailer eventually, and after a brief struggle to get the door open, Sweet Pea stumbled in with his boy in tow. He was tired at this point, having carried him all the way back and up the stairs leading into the trailer. He huffed in exertion as he dumped his mess of a boyfriend onto the couch, rolling out his shoulders with a slight wince. “You’re pretty heavy for a 5’4 guy.” Sweet Pea snorted as he turned around to look down at Fangs, who returned an indignant sort of huff. 

 

“Okay, I am _not_  5’4.” Fangs protested, scooting himself backwards on the couch to be sitting up a bit more. Sweet Pea shook his head dismissively, giving Fangs a look like _whatever you say_ , before turning and walking into Fangs’ kitchen. Predictably, Mr. Fogarty was nowhere to be seen, so Sweet Pea had no trouble opening up the freezer to grab an ice pack. He returned to his boyfriend, who had somehow managed to get his shoes off and the TV turned on, snatching the pillow from behind Fangs and scoffing at the half-hearted glare sent in his direction. Sweet Pea propped the shorter boy’s foot up on the table with the pillow under it, casting Fangs a wary glance as he attempted to hide his slight grimace caused by the jostling. After setting the ice pack on his somewhat swollen ankle, Sweet Pea dropped down onto the couch as well, following Fangs’ lead as he took his jacket off. 

 

“Thank you, sweetie,” Fangs said with a grin, laughing at Pea’s eye roll. He called him all sorts of variants of pet names that sounded like Sweet Pea, so this was nothing new. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Someone’s gotta watch out for you to keep you from tripping and falling to your death one of these days.” He retorted with a huff of amusement, draping an arm around Fangs’ shoulders and subconsciously relaxing further as his boyfriend’s head fell against his chest and his hand came to rest on Sweet Pea’s side. 

 

“I’m glad you’re the someone.” Fangs hummed as he visibly let the tension fall from his shoulders, chest rising and falling against Sweet Pea as his breathing slowed. 

 

“Me too,” he mumbled, voice low as he rested his chin on Fangs’ head. He was being honest; Fangs was _his_ idiot and it was Sweet Pea’s job to keep him safe, to protect him. So for right now if that meant getting him an ice pack and holding him on the couch, that was perfectly fine by Sweet Pea. Besides, Fangs was always warm and he was cute when he was sleepy, so it was pretty much a win-win. And evidently Fangs thought so too, because within the next few minutes he could hear some soft snoring, and a glance downward confirmed his thought that his boy had fallen asleep. 

 

Unsurprisingly enough, Sweet Pea was not far behind him, letting his guard drop as he closed his eyes and dozed off. 


	2. fall apart

Sometimes Fangs just had rough days. Today was one of them, even if it had started out smoothly enough.   
  
It was after school and Fangs had gone to hang out at the Wyrm for a few hours, talking and laughing and drinking whatever Hog Eye would let him have. Being at the Wyrm was always relaxing; he was in his element here, surrounded by good company and able to trust everybody in the room. It was nice, the feeling safe and at home thing. Because he knew that his home was with the Serpents, not with his dad who was never around or his mom who he could hardly remember. Home was right here, right here with his friends—his family—, relaxed and at ease. Home was with Toni, who would forever be the sister he never had, and with Sweet Pea, his best friend who had his back right from the start.   
  
He was talking to the taller boy, telling some story about how he’d almost gotten into a fight with that dickhead Reggie today, smiling as Pea rolled his eyes in amusement.   
  
“Seriously? He couldn’t come up with anything better than height insults?” Sweets snorted, quirking a brow at Fangs in an entirely unimpressed manner. His friend was leaned casually against the bar counter as Fangs remained perched on a stool, looking up at him.   
  
“I mean, neither can you most of the time.” Fangs pointed out teasingly, watching with a soft smile as Pea scoffed.   
  
“Well, yeah, that’s cause you’re short,” he said, earning him a feigned glare. “but I’m not trying to like, actually hurt your feelings.” Sweet Pea countered, pushing his hair away from his forehead.   
  
“Yeah? And what would you say if you were?”   
  
Sweet Pea raised his eyebrows, thought about it for a short moment, and then answered, “I dunno, I’d probably mention your snoring, or how you inhale your food like it’s gonna be your last meal, or the fact that you trip on your own feet at least twice a day without fail...” he listed off, and Fangs tried to look mad for a moment but he couldn’t help breaking into a soft laugh. “Should I go on?”   
  
“Nah, nah, I think I got it.” Fangs grinned, shaking his head. Sweet Pea smiled at him, chuckling as he sat down on a stool.   
  
They talked for another hour or so, Toni joining them for the tail end of it, and when Fangs finally took off, it was in high spirits. Bantering with Sweet Pea like that always left him in a good mood, an easy smile set on his face afterwards. So he headed out happily, hopping on his bike and driving back home without incident. However, when he actually reached his trailer, his brow furrowed slightly as he saw through the window that the light was on. There was pretty much no way he’d left it on when he headed out for school this morning, because having to pay for part of the electricity bill had taught him well to remember to turn the lights off when he left.   
  
It was for that reason that he approached with caution, getting off his bike and closing his hand over his knife in his pocket as he moved up the stairs. More concerning was when he twisted the doorknob to find it unlocked, and he thought that perhaps one of the Serpents had just decided to come over? They were the only ones who’d know where the spare key was—and it wasn’t in its usual place. So when he shouldered open the door, he didn’t know whether to expect an intruder or a friend, but whatever it was, he was pulling his knife anyway as he stepped in to see—   
  
His dad. Wait, his _dad_ ?   
  
The man was sprawled on his couch, empty beer bottles scattered across the table and the floor, a half-empty one gripped loosely in his fingertips. He looked a mess, unshaven and dark hair unkempt as he dozed. Fangs could tell from here that he smelled of cigarettes and alcohol.

  
“..Dad?” Fangs said hesitantly, effectively waking the man up with a grunt. It had been a month and _at least_ since he’d last seen him, and his dad hadn’t let him know he was coming home. Fangs had begun to believe that he might not return at all, and it hadn’t bothered him as much as it probably should have.   
  
“Where you been, boy?” The older man asked gruffly, groaning as he slowly sat up. His speech was slurred—not a lot, but enough that Fangs heard it. Enough to make his heart sink just a little bit, because they were supposed to be past this. They were supposed to be past him coming back and finding his dad drunk and angry at him. He wasn’t mad now, but he probably would be. Fangs knew that was just how these conversations went, every time they happened.   
  
“I was at the Wyrm. Where’ve you been?” Fangs asked in return, eyebrows knitting together a fraction as he shed his jacket and set it on the counter, then watched as his father downed the rest of the beer in his hand.   
  
“You my parole officer, boy?” He grunted in response, looking over at Fangs through red-rimmed eyes.   
  
“Just wondering where you were for the past month. But it’s—fine, whatever.” Fangs shook his head, turning to step into the kitchen.   
  
“Don’t turn your damn back on me when we’re talkin’, son.” His dad said sharply, drawing a sigh from Fangs’ lips as he slowly turned to face him again. “You’re..the one who showed up hours late to greet your old man.” He scowled, speech slow and words coming out sloppily.   
  
“I didn’t know you were coming. You didn’t tell me.” Fangs said, a note of irritation behind his words as he folded his arms across his chest.   
  
“I don’t hafta fuckin’ tell you shit, you got me, boy? I don’t gotta tell you nothin’.” Jack spat, and Fangs realized then that this man really was just _Jack_ , not _dad_. Comforting.   
  
Fangs shook his head, turned away again, having a pretty good guess at what the man had been doing all the time he was gone. He’d probably been with some woman, probably a married one, probably had been doing drugs, definitely drinking—  
  
His back hit the wall before he had time to react, Jack having somehow dragged his ass off the couch and crossed the room to shove Fangs. “I just fucking told you _not_ to turn your back on me, son. You don’t go ignorin’ me like those boys you go ‘n fuck in the closet for an hour ‘n then—“   
  
“Shut up,” Fangs snapped, squaring his shoulders as anger flared up in his gut, glaring up at the man. Of course a fucking month away hadn’t helped the whole homophobia thing, because _of_ _course_ being accepted by his father was too much to fucking ask for.   
  
Then Jack was on him again, forearm set hard against Fangs’ collarbones as he drove him back into the wall. Fangs’ jaw clenched with the increasing pain, growling as he shoved hard at the drunk, who didn’t budge. From there it escalated, Jack telling him some shit about respect and how he needed to shut his stupid mouth, and then it was this blur of his dad spitting slurs at him and refusing to take his hands off and Fangs pushing him, heated words and this intense anger in his dad’s eyes and just a crazy swirl of events.

  
That was, until the first punch was thrown. He hit Fangs square across the cheekbone, hard enough to turn him all the way around and leaving him staggering with the explosion of pain—hard enough to have split skin, he realized as he wiped away blood. He barely had time to turn around in shock before his dad was coming at him again, drunk and furious and screaming in his face about how everything was his fault, about his mom leaving and how Fangs was so desperate for attention that he “chose to be gay”. And finally he started fighting back, shoving his dad off of him insistently and yelling at him to back off, to just shut up and leave, to _get out of his life_ . And it kept escalating. Kept getting worse.   
  
It got to the point that his dad pulled a _knife_ , shoving Fangs across the room and swinging it around like a psycho, still red-faced and screaming. And for a hot, rage-filled moment, Fangs very nearly pulled his own blade. But because he picked out the words _I’m going to fucking kill you_ from his dad’s nearly incoherent shouting, he finally ran after an empty bottle was chucked at him, narrowly missing his head and sending broken glass spraying everywhere. He bolted, eyes wide with genuine fear—fear of the man that’d raised him, that was supposed to _protect_ him—throwing the door open and racing outside with his chest heaving and cheek throbbing. There were tears in his eyes and he didn’t know where he was going but he still ran anyway, trying not to cry as his dad’s words circled around his head, loud and threatening and pounding hard against his skull.   
  
He felt sick to his stomach and angry beyond words, shaking hard from exertion and adrenaline and fury and fear as tears streamed down his face. He still didn’t know where the hell to go until suddenly he was in front of a trailer. Sweet Pea’s trailer. He sniffed hard and wiped his eyes, legs unsteady and feeling as though he’d keel over and hit the ground at any given moment. He operated on some kind of autopilot as he knocked on the door, his face hurting bad where Jack had first punched him. He didn’t remember his dad going for his throat but apparently he did, because the skin there was tender and it hurt and maybe that was why he could hardly breathe?—   
  
“What do you want-“ Pea started, looking vaguely irritated as he answered, and then stopping as he saw Fangs. His expression dropped, eyes widening and mouth falling open slightly where the words had died out. Fangs hardly took notice, trying to just suck up his tears and keep from whimpering like a kicked dog.   
  
“Fangs? What the fuck, man? Who—come in here,” Pea said, looking bewildered and slightly angry as he grabbed Fangs’ wrist and pulled him into the trailer. Sweets sat him down on the couch as he stared at the ground, wiping at his nose. Sweet Pea hurried into the kitchen before returning with a first aid kit, sitting down next to him on the couch and bringing a hand to his jaw to turn Fangs’ face towards him.   
  
“What happened?” Pea asked quietly as he wiped at the blood on his cheek, clearly unhappy with whatever he saw there; probably a still darkening bruise, if the persistent throbbing was anything for Fangs to go by. His tears had stopped by now but he was silent, sitting still as he let Sweet Pea clean him up. He figured that it was a fair question, though; if this had been any other fight, there was no way in hell Fangs would be crying about it, much less dragging his sorry ass to Sweet Pea’s trailer. Pea knew something was very, very wrong.   
  
“My old man came back.” Fangs muttered, gaze remaining on the ground. He was avoiding eye contact.   
  
“He—he did this?” Sweet Pea questioned, sounding livid. Fangs risked a glance at him and was met with an intense look in his friend’s eye, one that he recognized. He predicted Pea’s next words before they came. “I swear I’ll fucking-“   
  
Fangs stopped him before he stood up, a hand weighing down on the taller boy’s shoulder as he shook his head. “Don’t.” He said quietly, but as firmly as he could manage. Sweet Pea looked like he was about to protest so Fangs continued, “Just stay here with me. Please.” The last part was softer, barely even there at all, as he looked at his best friend miserably. That seemed to change things, Pea’s anger visibly simmering down as he hesitated, and then nodded, turning his attention back to patching him up.   
  
“Shit, Fangs, did he..?” Sweet Pea muttered, long fingers brushing against Fangs’ neck gently and confirming his suspicion that there were marks there. He didn’t answer so his friend just let out a soft sigh, resting a hand partly on the back of his head and partly on the side of his face, brushing his thumb lightly against Fangs’ cheekbone. It soothed him a little, eyes closing for a moment as he leaned into the warmth of Pea’s skin. It was a stark contrast, this gentle show of support compared to the harsh, cruel touch of his father. Fangs was grateful for it.   
  
A few more minutes went by and Sweet Pea had finished cleaning up the blood on his forehead (which he hadn’t even noticed until it had started dripping) which he could only assume was from the glass. There was really nothing more he could do for Fangs, like close the pit in his stomach or alleviate the pressure on his chest, or _stop his stupid hands from shaking_ , Fangs thought with distaste as he looked down at them. Sweet Pea had evidently followed his gaze, because his fingers slipped away from Fangs’ face to instead grasp both of his hands, which he’d tightened into fists. Fangs relaxed them, bottom lip wobbling for a moment before he clenched his jaw.   
  
“Fangs.” His friend said softly, almost uncharacteristically so. He picked his head up, dragging his gaze upward to meet Pea’s eyes. Instead of continuing, Sweet Pea leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and it only took Fangs a beat before he was kissing him back. It didn’t occur to him that this was probably odd, that his best friend was kissing him and Fangs was kissing him right back; after everything they’d been through together, though, now it just seemed like it was all leading up to this.  It felt so good that it made his heart hurt, made him feel loved for a moment in the aftermath of his father’s violent storm of hatred. He leaned into Sweet Pea with slight desperation, and for a brief, soothing moment, the world melted away and took his problems with it. Fangs didn’t realize he’d started crying again until Sweet Pea pulled back, though not very far, expression softening with sympathy as he wiped the tears from Fangs’ cheeks.   
  
“I don’t know why he doesn’t love me, Sweets.” Fangs mumbled and he looked down, voice quiet as a self-deprecating laugh slipped from his lips.   
  
Sweet Pea shook his head, tipped Fangs’ chin up to draw his gaze to him instead of the floor. “That’s his own damn fault. But...I love you, okay? I love you, Fogarty, you got that?” Pea said, fingers still lightly grasping Fangs’ chin as he spoke. A wobbly smile flickered onto his face and he nodded softly; those words had been a long time coming, and Fangs was beyond relieved to finally hear them.   
  
“I got it. I love you too.” He returned, voice low as he looked up at Sweet Pea, the one person he could go to in this situation, the one person he wasn’t embarrassed to be seen like this in front of. And now, saying it out loud for the first time, he knew damn well why that was.   
  
“Let’s get to bed, yeah?” Sweet Pea said as he stood up again, tugging Fangs up by the hand as he nodded. He was tired, probably would’ve fallen asleep earlier if he actually had collapsed outside. They ended up getting settled into Sweet Pea’s bed, Fangs curled into Pea’s chest with their arms around each other.   
  
As Fangs steadily breathed in Pea’s familiar, comforting smell he felt the pressing need to make sure Sweet Pea knew that he was grateful for his help, for his understanding. “Thank you, Sweets.” He mumbled against him, tightening his arm around him slightly.   
  
“Don’t mention it. Now go to sleep, Fogarty.” Pea said quietly in return, running his hand up Fangs’ back. And he did, falling into a blessedly dreamless sleep wrapped up in Sweet Pea’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is appreciated!!


	3. author’s note

hey !! it’s been a while. so for a bit i totally lost motivation to write for riverdale, but after season 3, my burning desire to correct all the ways swangs have been done dirty jumped out and now im back on it. surprise !! i will most likely end this work here and instead turn this into a series, for organization’s sake. i have some things currently in the works, but if there’s still any interest in this, please drop prompts/requests/ideas, anything! thank you <3

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated :) next chapter soon


End file.
